I suspect some younger readers are scratching their heads over the flurry
of tweets and stories about a performer best known for his role as “the
amiable bumpkin Gomer Pyle in two hit television shows of the 1960s while
pursuing a second career as a popular singer with a booming baritone
voice,” as
The New York Timesdescribed him.

For me, though, the Alabama native’s death sparked memories of the gifted
entertainer whose grace, skills and love of his audience offer lessons for
communicators today.

I saw Nabors perform in the 1970s, back when my junior high friends and I
were more inclined to listen to Jethro Tull than
Nabors’ “Hymns and Country Favorites.” I lived in Los Angeles, and one afternoon my class attended the
videotaping of the “The Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour,” starring (you
guessed it) Sonny Bono and Cher.

We were profoundly unimpressed to learn that the special guests would
include Nabors, an entertainer we regarded as a has-been and, well, an
amiable bumpkin.

Please clap.

This was the pre-teleprompter era, and as the cameras rolled for the
opening dialogue, assistants held up colorful poster boards on which the
couple’s lines were hand-lettered in all caps. We could read the jokes
before they were delivered. Never mind. Flashing signs overhead instructed
the audience when to LAUGH and APPLAUD.

Just as the show-biz couple got going, something popped and flashed
backstage, and puffs of blue smoke drifted through the overhead lighting.
Sonny and Cher fled for their lives. If the studio was going to burn down,
these two big names were not about to perish with the little people.

So, were we supposed to run for the exits, or what? The teachers looked as
confused as we were.

Move along, people.

A producer came out and told us the show was canceled due to technical
problems with the lighting. We could all head home.

Just then Nabors came onstage. He took the mic, assured us that there was
no danger and proceeded to spend the better part of an hour singing,
telling stories and answering questions from the audience. His numbers
included a beautiful rendition of “How Great Thou Art.”

We junior high cynics came home that night excitedly telling our siblings
and parents what a cool show we’d seen. Jim Nabors was there! He was
terrific!

Over the years, I have often thought of Nabors’ grace and professionalism.
Indulge me in a few communications lessons inspired by an amazing
entertainer:

When I interview leading communicators, they often advise people to put
themselves in their audience’s shoes, asking, “What’s in it for me?”
(i.e., for your listener). Who cares what bromides your hairy-eared CEO
wants to drum into their heads? The only way they will remember your message is
if you show the impact on them.

The more famous (at that time) entertainers Sonny and Cher didn’t see their
job as entertaining us. They were there to tape a show. So there was a
short in the wiring? Bummer. Let the electricians fix it, and we’ll try
again tomorrow.

Nabors understood that he was there to entertain us. It didn’t
matter whether the cameras were rolling. We felt his care.

2. Address the elephant in the room.

Sonny and Cher skedaddled rather than talk about what must have been an
embarrassment to them: a failed production. It wasn’t Nabors’ program, yet
he took charge, made a joke about the problem and went on with the show.

Which approach would leave your workforce more confident in and trusting of
your leadership?

#CBS mourns the passing of Jim Nabors, a beloved TV star, singer and member of the Network family for decades. He will be missed. pic.twitter.com/CdfePsZ6Wk

Anyone who has answered questions at a public event knows that there are
always duds: the angry gesticulator, the goofball who showed up late and
would like a review of the first 15 minutes, the gal who proposes a deep
analysis into a side-issue relevant only to her. What matters is how you
handle these.

After Nabors sang several songs in his booming baritone, one potbellied
chap sneered: “How come that hillbilly accent of yours goes away when you
sing?”

Nabors chuckled and said he hadn’t noticed. If memory serves, he followed
up with a story about his youth in Alabama. His charm won over us
California teens who had previously been mocking Gomer Pyle’s accent. You
could hear kids muttering about Mr. Potbelly, “Rude!” and “What a dork.”

Some executives slave over presentations and insist on scripts and
teleprompters. Others are comfortable winging it. Yes, there are occasions
for a formal speech, but you’ll seem more spontaneous and genuine in a town
hall meeting if you can extemporize.

5. It’s all right to be silly sometimes.

Not every communicator (or executive) is comfortable with pie-in-the-CEO’s-face
antics. But it’s OK to lighten up sometimes, as Denver Water did
when the utility produced a video of a toilet punching a man for trying to
flush down pills.

If Nabors was willing to dress in
ridiculous costumes and play up his down-home accent, surely there’s someone in your
organization who’s game for creative messaging, such as a
Hitchcock spoof.

After all, no matter how silly Gomer Pyle appeared in uniform, people loved
Nabors. After his death, even the Marines were proud to claim him. And
that’s no laughing matter.